


One Clean Shot

by pistolgrip



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-16 16:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18097895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: The answer to “What’s not to love about the carnival?” is apparently “everything” if you’re Six. Awful answer, if Siete has anything to say about it.





	One Clean Shot

**Author's Note:**

> written for [the winding road home](https://twitter.com/gbf76zine) zine, thank you everyone for being so amazing as artists/writers and as people to work with!
> 
> [minor edits: i keep messing up formatting on ao3]

On the fading edge of summer, during one last heatwave, the carnival sets up on an island. In an effort to stop the Eternals from perpetually hiding from each other, Siete calls a day off for all of them to go. Getting anybody to be productive when it's this hot is useless, and they'd been working hard lately. It was _perfect._

Unfortunately, everyone else in the skydom thought so, too. He lets families board the ships before him, lets too many rides pass him by, and by the time he arrives there it's an hour past the planned time. Song might have left him a disappointed message about going ahead without him, but they have an entire day ahead of them; he could still find everyone, explain himself, and proceed with plans.

As he approaches the meeting place outside the entrance, he sees a looming figure with a ghastly mask, nestled among the shadows. There's a reason that most of the people coming in are taking a wide berth around where Siete's standing, and it's not because of Siete himself. If he didn't know any better, he'd consider the figure cause for alarm.

Instead, he walks up to it and pushes the decorative bushes aside, saying in a sing-song voice, "What's this? Is this a creepy raincloud I see on a perfect, sunny day?"

"I am not a _creep,"_ Six mutters in his low timbre, the one that instinctively brings a smile to Siete's face to balance the gloom. He crosses his arms, and Siete would dare call the action _sulky._ "I'm waiting for everyone to finish so I can go home."

"You can just say you're waiting for me," Siete winks.

"Unlike you, I find telling lies deplorable." His piercing tone gives Siete the wild idea that he's referring to Siete's tardiness, but the thought is quickly dismissed with Six's next words. "...It was foolish of me to believe that there would be a mission. It seems as though you truly _are_ here to waste our time."

"What? _Mission?_ It's a carnival. On a _day off._ You don't think it's fun to spend too much money on food, not win any of the rigged games, and get dizzy on rides that probably aren't up to code?"

"Your idea of 'having fun' is not universal. I have no interest in this. You've given me ample reason to turn around and leave," he says with finality, sweeping his arm towards the carnival before walking away. Siete quickly follows, and he keeps pace when Six starts walking faster.

"Then what do you do for fun?"

"There is no time for merriment," Six says in his trademark _I've never had fun in my life and I don't intend on changing that_ voice, and it makes Siete feel bad for about two seconds before he remembers he's made it a minor life mission to get Six to have fun. The guy's practically begging for it; he's got just enough personality that Siete _knows_ there are things he enjoys. The Eternals are a rough bunch, but Siete's got all of their soft spots down pat, except Six.

But there _are_ a few things he knows. Siete nudges him gently. "I know Uno and Funf aren't the only ones that talk to the flowers to help them grow."

"They're better listeners than you," Six snaps back, his ears flicking, and Siete's mouth twitches upwards at the spirited response. "They don't try to convince me to indulge in this... _congregation_ of sins. Why do you insist on this?"

The idea of calling the carnival a _congregation of sins_ is equal parts endearing and hilarious, and Siete laughs, pleased with the way this is going. "If you were waiting for everyone to finish before leaving, why are you leaving now that I've shown up?" Six stops dead in his tracks, taking a second too long to answer, and Siete knows he's got him. "Curiosity killed the cat, huh?"

"You must have a death wish."

Siete shrugs. "I have a _see-Six-have-fun_ wish."

Six shifts uncomfortably from beneath the shield he's created for himself, as if Siete's own vested interest in his well-being is unfounded. When Six speaks next, it's quieter, syllables drawn out in a show of wariness, but every space between his words reveals his disbelief. "And if I were to humour your request to visit the carnival—what do I have to gain?"

He's tried outings like this with Six many times before, and this might be the closest he's gotten yet, his reach grazing Six's as they meet halfway. But despite the firm wording, Siete knows that there's only so far that he can push Six before he doubles down underneath his cover once again. So with the last chance Six has so graciously given him, he says, "You showed up for a reason. I'm not leaving until you get what you came for, even if you won't tell me."

After a moment, Six sighs like a balloon deflating, making a faint whistling noise through his mask, and he power walks back towards the carnival. Siete lets out a whoop, jogging to keep up with him. "If you moved any faster, I'd think you sent a clone out to distract me."

Six exhales sharply. "That would have been the better idea."

* * *

They're stopped at the entrance with an awkward request to remove to Six's mask. Determined to get both of them in, Siete pulls them off to the side and passes Six a pair of oversized sunglasses. Six puts them on with less resistance than Siete expects, and then he wraps his cape around him to cover the bottom half of his face.

Siete leads them through the throng of people, and Six sticks close to him when the crowds jostle his flimsy disguise. They end up at one of the many stalls packed to the brim with stuffed animals. Siete can work with this. Rolling up his sleeves, he explains. "Basic stuff. Knock down all the glass bottles, win a prize—" Before he finishes talking, Six reaches up his own sleeve. Siete stops out of curiosity, which quickly turns into fear as Six's hand emerges with a small dagger. "No, no no, they'll give you a ball to knock it down with—watch," Siete pleads.

Six's eyebrows furrow, and he hesitantly slides the dagger back in its hidden holster. Satisfied, Siete gives a few rupies to the horrified booth manager for three balls. "What'll your prize be?" he smirks while tossing a ball in his hand, gesturing to the stuffed animals.

"Your humiliation when you fail will be consolation enough for this waste of time."

"Harsh," Siete laughs, and then he throws the ball.

He doesn't remember what the trick is in the way the bottles are propped up, and his aim has never been the greatest. He's good enough in close range, but put him at a distance and he's at a disadvantage. He really does try to knock the bottles down, but he fails miserably, and he's digging through his pocket for more change when Six sticks his own hand out with rupies to the person running the booth.

"I only need one," he says, with so much conviction that the person running the booth is shocked into silence.

"Uh... you can get three, six, or ten..."

Siete watches him frown, and then he says, as if it were an inconvenience, "Fine. Three."

They hand him three, and before Siete has time to egg him on, Six manages to launch the ball with so much force that Siete _swears_ he sees the bottles shatter before the sound even reaches his ears. "Do you..." The person at the booth says, pointing at a stuffed animal, before the launch of the second ball cuts the sentence short. There's another crash, and Siete whistles lowly. "That's... a different..."

"There's no one else here," Six says, and then launches the third ball at the farthest set of bottles, completely obliterating them. He stays still for a second to watch the shards of glass fall to the ground, and then he lowers his hand, wiping it on his cape before walking away.

With a quick apology and a pointed look over his shoulder towards Six's retreating form, he picks out a large stuffed bear and a small lobster and then runs to catch up. "You didn't even pick your prize," Siete says, tucking the small lobster in the hood of Six's cloak. Six shakes his head from side to side as if Siete put it on top of his head, between his ears. "So I had to guess what you liked."

"Pointless," Six scoffs. "It was child's play to defeat."

"That _is_ the point," Siete says. "Kids go to carnivals."

"For you to be unable to fell even one set of bottles with three attempts is pathetic."

At a glance, Six seems annoyed. But his walking speed lacks the frantic air from his earlier attempts escape the carnival, and the tension in his shoulders has loosened slightly, and there might even be _amusement_ in his voice at Siete's expense.

Siete hides the smile stretching across his face by holding the large teddy bear in front of it and says, in an exaggerated, friendly voice, "You sure showed me, didn't you?"

 _This_ makes Six pause, turning around to stare at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with Mister Cuddlesworth," Siete says in the same voice, playing it up , "Except that he needs a hug!"

"There are hundreds of people here that aren't me," Six says, baring his teeth. "Find someone else that cares about you."

"Someone _else_ that cares about me? I knew you cared all along, Six!" Siete says in half his regular voice, half Mister Cuddlesworth's, and he can see Six's brow twitch with irritation.

"A slip of the tongue," Six grits out, and his ears flatten against the side of his head. "If you're under the impression that I care, you're sadly mistaken."

"Maybe you don't care about _me,"_ Siete says in his regular voice, "but what did Mister Cuddlesworth ever do to you?"

"Must you continue this?"

Switching to the teddy bear's voice, Siete tries desperately not to laugh. "I'll stop when Six gives me a huggy-wuggy!"

With clear distaste, Six slowly picks up the paw of the giant teddy bear and presses it to his face; it pushes the cloak from in front of his mouth, and Siete watches with fascination as Six's face turns pink around the sharp edges of his scowl. " This is not in the definition of 'what I came here for'," he grumbles.

"Well, if you're gonna leave, at least take Mister Cuddlesworth with you." Siete reverts to his normal voice and throws the teddy bear out to Six so that his first reflex is to catch it. It's successful. "Unless this _is_ what you came here for."

The teddy bear is already half of Siete's height, and Six is almost dwarfed in comparison, despite not being much shorter than Siete to begin with. "What are you doing? This is yours."

Not sure if he's hearing things correctly, Siete shakes his head, confused. "What? You won this fair and square. If you want, we can go back and—"

"You misunderstand." Six sounds irritated, but it's almost silly when his head is barely peeking over the teddy bear. He's frowning like he doesn't understand why Siete is protesting. _"You_ were the one that talked at length about your skill in these games. I also took your own rupies from your pocket. I don't care about this thing."

Siete can't be mad. In fact, it's _hilarious_ that Six pickpocketed rupies (from his back pockets, no less) just to show him up at a carnival game. He can't tell if that's Six's sense of humour or if he genuinely thought that Siete wanted to win the prizes, but something about it is... sweet. "So you won these just for me?"

"I merely wanted to show you your own incompetence." He throws the teddy bear back at Siete, and then crosses his arms impatiently.

In the small scuffle with Mister Cuddlesworth, Six's scowl has turned half-hearted, only on his face out of habit. Siete stares a little too long trying to figure out what he's feeling, because Six notices, and pulls the cape back around his mouth before turning back around and walking away, the lobster still in the hood of his cape, bobbing up and down, waving its fuzzy claws at Siete. "It's too loud," he mumbles grumpily over the sounds of everyone at the carnival.

It's nice to see Six enjoy himself, Siete thinks, as he follows and puts Mister Cuddlesworth's paw on top of Six's head. "Let's see if you complain so much once you get food in you."

 

 


End file.
